


Freshly Hatched Love

by elbatross



Category: Final Fantasy, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Angry Erik, Chocobos, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elbatross/pseuds/elbatross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik absolutely abhors chocobo, and unfortunately his best friend Hank is a researcher who continuously attempts to get him to help around his lab. Hank buys the finest egg bred from the rarest specimens he can track down, leaves the egg in Erik's care, and waits for trouble to hatch in the form of Charles the Chocobo. Erik seriously needs better friends, or at least ones who don't unleash lovesick birds onto him in the name of science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freshly Hatched Love

**Author's Note:**

> I really have no excuses for this one. It's been a plot bunny I've had for months now, and there might be more to this universe. I don't even know what specific FF verse this takes place in, so that's up to you to decide.

"No."

"But Erik, i'll just be for the afternoon, and you don't even have to keep the thing warm. I'll be in it's own little basket."

"Hank, I said no." Erik wasn't a babysitter, and he'd told Hank this every time he'd asked him to mind the lab or ranch when he had to go present at a conference. He figured that one day he'd understand that he simply didn't like chocobo and would stop asking, but he never expected him to try to pull a fast one. "Egg or otherwise, it's still a chocobo. It's going to stink up the place no matter what form it's in. Why can't you just take it with you?"

"Because this one is special, Erik. I've had to pay a great amount of coin to get it. It's a very rare specimen, a cross between a si-"

"-silver and a gold, yeah, yeah, I know. Still doesn't mean I'll let it sit in my house unless it's thoroughly cleaned and stuffed. Even then, it'd still be a no." Hank made a pathetic noise of protest, bundling the bright blue egg into a blanket before placing it back into it's basket. 

"If you do it this once, I promise I will never ask you to even come over to look at it once it's hatched, nor will I ask you to watch the rest of the herd. I'll even pay you." Erik grinned at the prospect of a little extra gil in his pockets, and better still the thought that he'd never have to worry about Hank and his chocobo again.

"A thousand gil and you've got a deal." They shook on it and Hank reluctantly handed over the money. "You said that I just need to keep it somewhere safe? You can put it in the bedroom. It's not like there's anything that an egg can mess up in there."

It was just Erik's luck to later be proven so _very_ wrong.

\---

The first little sign that something was amiss came in the form of a great crashing coming from down the hall. Erik was in his workshop working on his next batch of weapons when he heard it, recognizing the sound as one of a vase breaking. He reached for the nearest blade and headed off to investigate. Were it to have been an intruder, his alarms would have gone off, and Moogles never broke anything other than windows when the crash landed to collect wares to sell. No, this was something different, or possibly just Hank returning and stumbling down the hall after one too many cocktails.

Still, that didn't make sense. Hank had a key, and if he were to come in the system would have alerted Erik to his presence. Erik gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and rushed into the bedroom. The entire room was a mess, sheets strewn about and curtains pulled from their rod. The blood rushed from his face when he saw the basket knocked from its spot on the bed, wet eggshell splattered all over the floor. Hank would murder him. He scrabbled to the floor to collect all the bits of shimmering shell, hoping that he could at least reassemble it and slap a bit of paint on.

"Shit, Erik, you were supposed to be watching the damn thing! Hank's going to think you did this on purpose. Should have never told him to leave it here, I should have made him take the damn thing with him!" He continued to pile the bits in the basket, trying to locate the gigantic yolk this thing should have had in it. There was sufficient slime staining and smelling in his carpet, so where could it have been? He patted around under the bed for it, unable to see what he was doing until he touched something wet and firm. Erik jerked his hand away. "No."

The thing started to make it's way from under the bed.

"No."

Brilliant blue eyes framed by chocolaty feathers peered up at him, and a little pink beak dotted with two spots opened in wonder to make soft and excited noises at him.

"Kweeeeeeh...kwe."

"Hell no." Erik pulled a sheet from the bed to drape over the tiny chocobo, who seemed to think that he was playing a game with it and made it's way out. It trilled and kwehed happily when it could see Erik again, hopping into his lap to nuzzle its beak against his chest.

Oh, Hank was a dead man now, and Erik let him know on the phone ten minutes later. He locked the chocobo in his bathroom, the little creature letting out distressed calls due to the separation from Erik.

"You didn't tell me the thing was close to hatching," Erik snapped, still covered in egg slime and chocobo stink. He was taking multiple showers once this was all settled. "It keeps following me around, and you knew I have deadlines to meet soon." 

"I calculated how long it would be until it would hatch, and it wasn't due for another week, I swear! A-and uh..."

"Don't 'uh' me, Hank McCoy. I know that voice, what's the worst part?" The line was quiet, then Hank sighed.

"Well, you're the first one it saw, so you...uh, you own it. You're like it's mother. You'll just have to raise it until it's old enough to be on the ranch, which will be a few months, maybe even a year..." Erik nearly dropped the phone. "B-but don't worry, it's my fault so I'll be over every day to take care of it for you, but Erik you can't just neglect it. You have to nurture and love it, because it's a rare chocobo and I need the data. I'll even pay for the greens to keep it from making too much of a smell, and if you want me to bathe it I can, but Erik you have to do this for me." He considered hanging up right then and there, but the scratching and crying abruptly stopped in the other room. "If the chocobo doesn't get enough interaction in this delicate stage of it's development, it'll die. And if it survives, when I get the money for my research, you can have it all and some of the credit. We can make a deal of it."

"Fine, I'll do it. But when you get here tonight, it's sleeping with you. I'll handle it during the day, but I don't want the smell in my sheets." He hung up and headed to the bathroom, finding the bundle of feathers huddled in a corner on some towels. It sadly glanced back at him with its big glassy eyes, moving more into the corner.

"....kwe..." It bumped it's little head against the wall when it turned away from Erik, shivering a little at the cold. Erik sighed and rubbed his temples, kneeling behind it. He reached to stroke its back feathers, dampness still clinging to them. His heart almost broke when it tried its best not to lean into his touch.

"Damn it...okay, fine, you can stay here, but we need rules. Don't shit on my stuff in the house, be careful, and you have to have a bath every day. Do you understand?" The chocobo perked up, scooting over to him and lying its head on his lap with as much of a grin as a little bird could muster. Erik stroked its beak. "You're going to be more trouble than you're worth, I can already tell."

When Hank returned that night, Erik was proud to show off the little bit of training he'd managed to do with the chocobo. For one, he'd gotten the creature to understand that if it was going to be in the workshop, it had to stay in one spot to avoid danger. Hank found them in that very spot, the bird in its basket by the door as Erik worked.

"Kweh!" It greeted Hank with a ruffle of wings and an affectionate nip, getting up to scramble over to Erik for praise. Hank was shocked to see Erik bend to pat it's head.

"Yes, that's Hank, good job letting me know he's here, Charles." The words were only slightly sarcastic, but even that was a surprise. Even more so was the disappointment Hank's face displayed at the sight of the bird. "What? This is your prize bird, right?"

"Yes, but...it's brown."

"And? It's a chocobo, right?"

"Well," he started, still frowning, "brown chocobo aren't exactly remarkable. They're just known for being sweet and sleeping a lot. Not quite what you'd expect from prize winning parents. I'm sorry to say this, Erik, but this one might not be worth much." 

"...you're saying you let a worthless bird get attached to me and lead me to believe that it would be a big earner?" The words made the chocobo shrink and shy away to it's basket. 

"I mean, it could still get us good press, but if it were something ultra rare, then we would have had a better chance. Still, maybe this wasn't so bad, right?"

"Hank, I think you're forgetting that I _hate_ chocobo. If I don't have to keep this thing in my house, then I don't want to. Take your bird and go." Erik turned back to his work, and Hank sighed before preparing to collect the bird. It pecked at him sharply, drawing blood and making disgruntled noises before running to attempt to hide next to Erik. He brushed it aside without a second look and reached for a tool instead.

"Erik."

"Hank, I said go home and take the damn beast with you."

"No, Erik, look." Erik lifted his head and took a quick glance in the direction Hank was pointing. He did a double take, then a triple take, mouth gaping open.

The bird had exactly what he needed, but the true wonder was that Erik hadn't even remembered to pull it from the toolbox, the same one that had a padlock on it with a code that only Erik knew. It shyly placed the object in Erik's still outstretched hand and hopped back away from him. A questioning presence made itself know in Erik's mind, mostly wanting to know if he'd get praise and maybe another scratch on his chest from his human. He also addressed himself as Charles, a strangely human name for a bird.

"He's telepathic. Hank, the bird's a telepath." He dropped the tool and pulled his chocobo to his lap, thinking apologies in his direction and scratching the fluffy chest until he almost purred with delight. "He can understand us, and he just asked if I was going to pet him and told me he wanted to be called Charles."

"So 'Charles' is intelligent? Erik, if that's the case, you know I'll need to take him home and run tests immediately." 

"Like hell you are. He just hatched today, you're going to have to wait until the morning to do that." The chocobo nuzzled Erik in delight, flapping useless wings.

"Kweh kwek!" 

"Even the bird agrees. Now, if you aren't going to be of any use, you're going to have to go home. I have commissions to finish and my chocobo needs his rest. You've already caused enough trouble today." Hank gaped at Erik in disbelief, then down at the bird.

He could have swore that Charles winked at him. There was no way that he was prepared to have to deal with two overly intelligent bird brains on top of the rest of his herd. Hank only had himself to blame, and when Erik woke in the morning with a baby chocobo on his chest and a fading affection for the creature, he was sure that he'd hear it from him as well.


End file.
